


i wanna grab both ur shoulders and shake, baby

by bees_knees



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angry Kissing, Angry Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Betrayal, Blood Kink, Bottom Alexander Hamilton, Childhood Trauma, Coercion, Crying, Declarations Of Love, Demon Deals, Demon Sex, Demons Are Assholes, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Fear, Fist Fights, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Homophobic Language, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, Kink Negotiation, Love Triangles, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Misunderstandings, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Possession, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Possibly Unrequited Love, Praise Kink, Recreational Drug Use, Scent Kink, Slut Shaming, Threats of Violence, Top Thomas Jefferson, or dont hahahahahaha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28357413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bees_knees/pseuds/bees_knees
Summary: Alexander Hamilton lives a peaceful life, after getting his own apartment and gaining a group of friends. Well, the past three years have been great, to say the least. It all comes to a halt when a particular bitchy, flamboyant demon shows up one day and won't leave him the Hell alone until he makes a deal with him. Hijinks ensue.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson, John Laurens/Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/Hercules Mulligan, Maria Reynolds/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Thomas Jefferson/James Madison
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	i wanna grab both ur shoulders and shake, baby

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Bees here! I decided to revamp this story. I'm trying my best and I hope this is good enough! I won't abandon it this time lol. I changed up some plot points, and I am going to try my best to update as soon as I get the chance. Thanks for being supportive of me and I hope y'all have a blessed day.

Life can be horribly unfair sometimes, can it not? That was the most prominent thought in one Alexander Hamilton’s head. 

It all started on a winter evening. The snow was falling from the sky in sporadic little bundles, and the snowflakes stuck desperately to any surface after it danced down from the sky. The sun was hidden behind the thick, gray clouds, shying away from the world and denying any part of Earth’s veneer of warmth. Alexander had his head resting against his window, eyes drawn to the snowflakes. Even after three years, it still struck chords of curiosity within his lithe body. 

He had lived in Nevis for so very long that when he had come on over to New York, the cold in the December was jarring. The temperatures in the winter months were high there. When he was able to immigrate to the States, it was snowing as soon as he stepped out of the airport. He remembered blinking, tears springing to his eyes. He had made it to New York City, where dreams were made, and the snow was only a reminder of that. His mom would have been proud, surely. 

He could wear his heart thumping gently in his chest, his toes only a little cold. His nose was slightly red, but he wasn’t surprised. He only turned his heat on in this blazing winter when he absolutely could not bear the cold any longer. He needed to conserve money, as the price of utilities was climbing due to the cold weather.

His long brown locks were sitting messily on the top of his head in a bun, a light green scrunchie holding the strands together. The large, lilac sweater hugged his body nicely, and his red flannel pajama pants topped off his look. His rounded, black framed glasses sat delicately on the bridge of his nose. He had a notepad in his lap, the gel pen in between his lips. His teeth nibbled on the end of the writing utensil as he ran his eyes over what he had written so far. 

It was a rather daft poem, not impressive by any means by his high standards. He knew he could do better, but the exhaustion in the bags underneath his eyes was not letting up, and his creativity could only run so wild while he was operating on a couple hours of sleep and a few shots of caffeine. 

He yawned, taking the pen out of his mouth. He made sure to click the pen, the nub carefully inserted back in. Hamilton had sat on it once when he didn’t. and fuck, did it hurt. He might still have the mark on his ass, which was always a great topic when he got railed from random men at the bar. The man sat the notepad on his bed, the pen resting on top of the surface. It rolled a back and forth for a bit before it came to a complete stop, and he smiled to himself as it happened. He shimmied down to the side of his king size bed and pressed his feet to the hardwood floor. He shivered at the coldness of it, then stood up. 

He walked over to his dresser, opening it and pulling out a pair of hot pink fuzzy socks Hercules had made for him, keeping in mind that the small man was a cheapskate who did not like to turn up the heat unless there was a worrying reason to. Hamilton smiled at the memory of the first Christmas with his friends. 

He was practically living in the library, having no place to go and all. It was not like he had a whole problem with it, since reading was a peaceful pastime for him that he would never get bored of doing. He still remembered the book he was reading when they all met. It was sitting on his desk that was right next to his comfortable bed. Lafayette had gotten it and got it signed by the author, with his connections due to being a marquis and such. He did not cry when he received it. That is besides the point though! This is about his friendship starting with those three dumbasses. He remembered clear as day, that It all happened when:

“Have you even moved from that spot, man?” 

Alexander snapped his eyes up, jolting in surprise. It was the first time someone had spoken to him in a week, so pardon his stagger. He made eye contact with a freckled faced man, his smile teasing, hazel eyes full of amusement. He had a green beanie on, but it didn’t stop his golden brown, curly locks from spilling out and around his face. He wore a pair of skinny jeans with colorful art patches stitched and pressed onto the black fabric, with a comfortable gray hoodie with a cute cartoon turtle on the front covering his torso. The strings had been taken out of it, which made Alexander curious, but he wasn’t going to ask.

“Que?” He retorted, a little amused as well, but also a bit annoyed for being taken out of his stupor whilst he had been reading his book, and it only made John snort at the different tones in that singular word. 

“Nah man, sorry. That seemed a lil’ blunt, didn’t it?” His voice was drenched with a sweet as honey southern accent. 

Alexander ran his eyes up and down the other for a second, before looking back down at his book, a little taken aback. He hadn’t talked to someone like this ever since-  
He looked back up, bit his lip for a second, before opening his mouth to say: 

“Perhaps a little bit.” Alexander admitted, then folded a dog ear on his page, closing the cover of his book to gently set it on top of the table. “Did you need something or what?” 

The stranger leaned forward, beaming in such a friendly way that Alexander could not feel any resentment towards the freckled man for being taken away from his book. He parted his lips to say something, plump lips formed into a large smile.

  
“Laurens! Where you at, bro?” A deep voice interrupted him, the bellow so loud it echoed in the area, pounding footsteps being heard from the other end of the library. Alexander glanced around him; the other patrons seated at the table glaring daggers at the voice. One girl rolled her eyes in exasperation, but everyone seemed... used to it. Was this a common occurrence, especially in a library? Is American culture just different or were they just so obnoxious every day, that everyone eventually got used to it? 

_Laurens_ grinned, looking behind him. “Common area, Herc!” A burly man, (Herc, he mentally noted) emerged from in between the shelves, a taller man trailing behind at a much softer pace, but his long legs made him take wide strides. 

“Mon dieu, slow down, s'il vous plait?” Alexander blinked at the French accent in surprise, feeling comfortable yet cornered as the two other men came over and plopped down into the seats next to Laurens. They both studied Alex, and the other squirmed underneath their gaze. 

“Made a new friend, eh?” The Frenchman questioned curiously, flicking his eyes between Laurens and Hamilton. John just shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair. Hercules quietly scolded him, pulling his chair back down, muttering something about cracking his dumbass head open if he fell back due to his carelessness. 

And then it just went from there. To Alexander moving in with them when they offered out of the kindness of their hearts, to them being best friends in such a surprisingly short amount of time. Alexander spent his first ever Christmas with those idiots, and it would be something he would never forget. He had opened up to them in a way he had not in years, ever since his mom passed away due to a fatal illness. 

His eyes glimmered with content as he held the socks to his chest, closing his eyes for just a second. A small smile graced his thin, chapped lips, and then he ran a tongue over them. He should really get chapstick soon, you know. He just forgot to lick his lips from time to time or drink water because he was… busy? No, not busy, more so... Just too tired to give a shit if his lips were chapped or not. 

And so, while he was in the middle of thinking about his dry ass lips, that is when he heard it. The sound that made him freeze. A soft cough behind him. What the fuck? What the fuck. 

Hamilton whipped around, yet... saw nothing. He narrowed his eyes, looking around him. He forced himself to chalk it up to being just his mind overthinking in the deep silence of his apartment, the only thing that could be heard was the faint beeping of New York traffic. It was surprisingly busy considering the roads were shit. 

Alexander rolled his eyes just a bit, beginning to turn around. But right before he did, he saw his pen move. He stayed still for a bit, his heart racing in his chest. And then, it was flung off his notepad. 

Hamilton shrieked. He shrieked so high that it hurt his own throat and ears, but he panicked and was not thinking about being quiet. He dropped the fuzzy socks, and sprinted to his open bedroom door, before that slammed close. He grabbed the doorknob, yanking it repeatedly, desperately trying to open it to no avail. What the HELL was going on?!

The doorknob heated up, and he quickly let it go with a pained hiss. And then he felt the clawed hand on his shoulder, and boy oh boy. 

He screamed. 


End file.
